


Body Prison

by ALSTROMERIA



Category: Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Street Kid V (Cyberpunk 2077)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:22:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28253112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ALSTROMERIA/pseuds/ALSTROMERIA
Summary: A collection of scenes from V's experiences in Night City, and her time with Goro Takemura.
Relationships: Goro Takemura & Female V, Goro Takemura/Female V
Comments: 33
Kudos: 336





	1. Jacket

It’s happening again.

I almost wish this shit didn’t come with warning bells. The anticipation of it is almost worse than the pain itself. Knowing I’m about to lose control is my least favorite sensation. And it’s only getting fucking worse.

There’s a certain amount of shame that comes with it too, as if feeling my own brain deteriorate in real time isn’t fun enough. I just hate looking weak in front of Johnny. Which is fucking wild considering he’s inside my head, he knows everything about me and just how weak I am already. But I hate giving that smug motherfucker any more ammunition against me.

I blink a few times, trying to stop the strobe effect that’s taken over my vision. I grip my knees for stability.

“The blueprints, do you have them with you?” I ask.

I’m trying to sound intimidating but it’s hard to do when your victim knows you’re on borrowed time already. A street kid with pigtails, a shiny blue bodysuit, bags under her eyes and an expiration date rapidly approaching isn’t all that scary. I don’t blame this gonk for feeling a little brave. 

My head rattles again, sending electric stabs of pain down the back of my neck. I’m losing it. It’s coming and I’ve got no way to stop it.

The door to my right suddenly slides open. Takemura enters with a grim expression and the door whisks shut behind him. 

I don’t know why, but seeing him standing there produces a wave of relief in me. A sense of comfort. His bright, reflective eyes take in the room and then me. I find myself admiring the grey streaks in his hair along his temple, the familiarity of his big, dark coat, and the lights reflecting off the cyberware in his throat.

I probably shouldn’t be comforted by his presence. Johnny is always quick to tell me Takemura only saved me because it was in his interest to do so. But I’ve never been able to quiet the nagging gut feeling I have about Goro being a good guy. Decent. Principled. Honorable. Rare traits in Night City. 

I feel safe when I’m around him. Which I know is ironic, considering this man used to be Saburo Arasaka’s bodyguard, meaning he’s got to be the scariest motherfucker who ever lived. But his eyes are kind, and his voice is soft. I’ve never been able to shake the image of him on that rooftop, talking to me about his childhood. Being weirded out by that fucking cat. Bakeneko, he called it.

“V,” he says, and I feel my stomach turning to honey. 

“We’re almost done here,” I manage. 

I turn back to Hellman, summoning the last dredges of my strength. 

“The blueprints.”

He nods and reaches into his back pocket. He pulls a shard out and hands it to me. The image distorts as I reach forward and take it from him and slot it in. Most of its medical babble that I’ve got no head for. I’m only half paying attention to the images as they rush by. Johnny says something but his words are muffled by the warning bells going off inside the shitstorm that’s become my brain.

The data vanishes and I stand. My chest is tight.

“What are you going to do with him?” I ask Takemura.

His mouth twists, “I have not decided yet.”

That’s good enough for me. Takemura is scary. If Hellman wasn’t afraid of me, he’ll definitely be shitting his pants now. That gives me a small amount of satisfaction.

I nod and go for the door. Pain spikes at the back of my head, a flower blooming at the base of my skull. The door opens and I rush out, gripping the balcony for dear life.

“Fuck.”

The taste of iron floods my mouth. My breath comes in sharp bursts and my stomach roils. The cool grip of the balcony feels nice for a moment before I lose the battle and heave the contents of my stomach over the edge. My vision swims and cuts in and out. I feel like someone’s taken a jumper cable to my head. Every time this happens, it gets worse. I don’t know how many more of these I can take.

I’m fucking scared.

Johnny, at least, is mercifully silent. He lets me puke my guts up without any commentary. Maybe he pities me.

“V?” Takemura’s voice sounds tight with concern, “What’s wrong?”

I finish puking and wipe my mouth. Everything hurts. My legs are going to go out. I shake my head as sweat paints itself across my brow.

“F-fuck,” I say, because that’s all I really can say at this point.

I hear the door slide shut again and I think that Takemura’s gone back inside to deal with Hellman. But then I feel a hand at my elbow, guiding me away from the balcony. I follow, because my entire body is jelly, and allow myself to be led to the bench in the hallway. I crash down onto it and then let my head roll back until it meets the wall. I close my eyes.

“Are you all right?” Takemura asks.

“Does it fucking look like I’m all right?” I snap and then immediately feel guilty and add, “I just…need a minute.”

I open my eyes. Takemura is crouched in front of me, his eyes narrowed. One of his hands grazes my knee before he retracts it.

“Stay here,” he says, “I will get you some water.”

I lean forward, “Don’t bother. Water from the tap in this dump would probably kill me quicker than the biochip.”

His brow furrows handsomely. He rarely smiles, but I’ve grown to like his grumpy default. 

“V,” he says, almost scolding.

“I’m fine,” I wave him off, “Go deal with Hellman. I’m just gonna sit here for a bit.”

The worst is over now. My vision’s going back to normal, and the ringing in my ears is gone. I just need to sit until everything levels out again and I’ll be nova. But Takemura doesn’t look convinced.

He stands, and begins to remove his jacket.

“Rest. I will drive you back to Night City once I am finished.”

Underneath the jacket is a pristine white button down, one that does little to conceal the bands of muscle in his arms and the firmness of his chest. His sleeves are rolled up, exposing muscled forearms lined with cyberware. 

He suddenly drapes his jacket around my shoulders. I’m so surprised, I don’t say anything. I just watch as he gathers the coat around me and makes sure I’m completely engulfed in its warm embrace.

It smells like him. Expensive aftershave, which I have no fucking idea how he gets now that he’s cut off from Arasaka and slumming it like everybody else. It’s sharp and clean smelling, almost like pine. 

The coat is warm, too. I didn’t realize how cold I was until the transferred heat of his body bled into mine.

Takemura says nothing more. I’m too shocked to even thank him, and can only stare as he makes his way back into the room with Hellman. The door shuts behind him and I’m left in silence.

I know I could get home on my own, but I don’t bother calling up the car. Something about the idea of riding back with Takemura makes me ache. I long for the safety his presence provides. I want to stare at his profile as the lights of Night City approach and forget that I’m dying, even just for a little while.

So I wait, nestled in his jacket, until he’s finished.


	2. Anchor

_GOOD YAKITORI NIGHT CITY_

_TEMPURA NIGHT CITY CHEAP_

_UDON NIGHT CITY_

_TASTY RAMEN_

_Is there anything to eat in this wasteland?_

**Goro, you can’t find anything because you’re sending your searches to me as messages!!!**

_I apologize, it is this cursed interface… Or a virus._

**I’ve got a few ideas if you’re feeling peckish**

**How about Mexican food? Right next to Mama Welles’ bar in the Glen there’s a place that serves the best tamales in the world**

_An interesting proposition, I assume this Mama Welles is related to your friend?_

**His mother**

_I see._

**I’m actually pretty close to the Glen, I could swing by and meet you there if you want**

_Yes, I would like that._

**Nova, be there in fifteen**

  
  


* * *

This place hasn’t changed at all. Sitting in the same booth Jackie and I always sat in, I can almost see him sitting across from me. Salsa verde dripping down the corners of his mouth, grinning, talking too loudly about our next job.

God I fucking miss him.

I should call his mom, but I’m too much of a chicken shit. 

“This is excellent.”

Goro’s voice interrupts my train of thought. I blink, and instead of Jackie, he’s the one sitting across from me. The longer he exists outside of Arasaka’s grasp, the more Night City seems to suit him, I think. He doesn’t look as wildly out of place here as he did at Tom’s.

I was nervous he wouldn’t take me up on my offer at first. But it seems like his gut won out over any reservations he has about me. 

“Told ya,” I say, “They don’t mess around here.”

He nods, and then dabs at his mouth with a napkin. I honestly can’t fucking remember the last time I saw someone do that. It makes my stomach flutter.

“I did not know such food existed in Night City.”

“Live here long enough, you find the hidden gems,” I shrug, “Not many of them, but they’re around. Me and Jackie used to hit this place up every week.”

It stings to talk about Jack, but it’s also kind of nice to say his name to someone. I haven’t really even spoken his name to anyone except Misty. And she’s sweet, but I feel too fucking guilty to even look at her these days. Crying on her shoulder is not an option.

“Ah,” Goro says, “And his mother’s bar is close by.”

Guilt falls like a stone into my gut. I do my best to ignore it. "Yup. Used to bring her our leftovers. Jackie’s eyes were always too big for his stomach.”

Takemura leans back from his plate and sighs. The rough gravel of his voice is warm, relaxed even. “I think I may have a similar problem.”

“Nah, you did pretty good for your first time. Hit the spot at least?”

“Very much so. Thank you, V.”

Hearing him say my name always gives me a kick of adrenaline. It feels oddly intimate, though I don’t know what the fuck else he would call me. Still, I revel in the momentary pleasure and soak up the image of him across from me. Hair neat, shoulders relaxed, pale gaze skimming over my face.

“How are you feeling?” He asks all of a sudden.

I feel my face pinch before I can stop it. Not that there’s really any point in denying it. Everybody fucking knows I’m dying, it’s not like it’s a secret. But it’s habit for me to play things close to the chest. Growing up on the streets, you’re not supposed to let anyone see your weaknesses. It’s suicide.

But I’m not that kid anymore. Got the same hair, same sense of style, same attitude — but I’m older now. Maybe not wiser, because if I was I’d already have found a way out of this fucking mess. 

“It comes and goes,” I say, “Most of the time I’m fine but every so often I’ll be minding my fuckin’ business one minute and puking my brains out the next.”

The chicken shit kid in me wants to tell Goro how scared I am. How each attack gets worse, like a vice tightening around my head. How I’m scared that the next time, it’ll flatline me and I’ll have no way to stop it.

Instead, I pick at my napkin, shredding it into little pieces.

“The parade is only days away,” Takemura murmurs, “If all goes to plan, we will get Hanako-sama will help you.”

Johnny, appearing at a barstool across the way, scoffs. " _Yeah, I’m sure he’s real fuckin’ concerned about getting her to help_ **_you_ **.”

He’s not a fan of Takemura. He’s made that pretty clear. What’d he call him the other day? Saburo’s personal assmunch? 

I ignore him. I’m not going to let his cynicism ruin the only good thing that’s happened to me in days. At this point, I don’t really care if Goro is yanking my chain. He’s at least doing a convincing enough job of it to give me hope.

“If all goes to plan,” I repeat with a wry smile.

“It will be dangerous,” Goro says with a furrowed brow, “But I am confident in our abilities.”

That makes one of us.

“I just gotta keep from flatlinin’ until then, I guess,” I say.

Goro gives me a hard stare. It’s tough to read. Can’t tell if it’s concern or pity, or maybe even frustration. Either way, I find myself burning up under his scrutiny. His eyes have a way of unraveling me.

“I should go. There is much to prepare, still.”

My heart sinks a little at his words, but I nod. Not realistic to think we could sit here in this moment forever. I should be grateful I got this time with him at all.

“Yeah, sure.”

We paid for the meal upfront, so we slide out of the booth together and head out of the restaurant. I give the owner a two fingered salute on my way.

“ _See ya, V!”_

Goro holds the door open for me. It’s probably habit for him, holding doors for people, but it still flips my stomach. I murmur my thanks to him as I hurry out, my heart beating irregularly inside my chest.

Night City’s getting dark. All the lights are getting brighter, the music louder, the cacophony of holo ads shrieking at every corner. The city always feels more like itself in the dark. In the daytime, it wears a mask. 

I have the sudden urge to ignore all my responsibilities and take Jackie’s bike on a long ride through the heart of the city, just to let the neon lights fill me up.

“Thank you again for the recommendation,” Goro says as he joins me on the corner.

He stands a few inches taller than me, and his shadow overtakes mine. He is so steady against the writhing backdrop of the city. Eyes focused, posture ramrod straight — he’s like an anchor, and I realize I’ve been holding onto him this entire time.

I try to hide my disappointment, “Anytime, Goro. I’ll see you later?” 

“Yes.”

He touches my elbow. A soft, passing gesture. It’s a farewell, but nearly an affectionate one. It only lasts a moment before he moves away from me.

“Stay safe, V.”

Everytime he says it, I tuck the words into my chest and keep them there. Not many people give a fuck about my safety. Maybe it’s stupid, but I really cherish the ones that do.

“You too,” I say, with the wind knocked out of me.

He doesn’t look back, and disappears into the crowd in the next second. My grip on his anchor of stability vanishes and I’m left bobbing in the sea of Night City like everyone else, just trying to keep my head above water. 

  
  



	3. Girl Next Door

The view is beautiful. I tell River as much, and stifle the urge to talk shit about the corps in the same breath. This is a nice moment. I shouldn’t ruin it.

This whole day has been nice. I’ve been rubbing up against it the wrong way the whole time, and I feel like shit for it. I should be able to relax into River’s life. It’s what I’ve always wanted, isn’t it? Family, home-cooked meals, a sense of belonging — but I spent the whole day waiting for the other shoe to fall. 

Much as I try to ignore it, I know for a fact I don’t belong here.

Being away from Joss and the kids is a little easier. They’re all great, of course, but that’s precisely the problem. My presence taints their world, even if they don’t realize it. Plus, I can only pretend at the happy loving family act for so long.

I’m sure it doesn’t pass anyone’s notice that I’m sitting in a plastic chair trying to eat jambalaya while dressed like a joytoy, my arms equipped with military grade weaponry and tattoo ink running over every inch of me. I’m so out of place it’s almost laughable. 

I long for the anonymity of the city. Or at the very least, the equal familiarity of Heywood. Everyone there knows me, but they’re in the same shit. None of us have any right to judge each other.

Not that I think Joss is judging me. I just feel … inexplicably  _ wrong. _

Which is why it’s a relief to be alone with River now, perched on top of the water tower and staring into the belly of Night City. Of course, being alone with him raises other problems. Number one being how the fuck I’m going to break it to him that I’m not the girl he thinks I am. There’s no gentle way to do this. It’s going to happen like ripping off a bandage.

I  _ like  _ River. That’s not the problem. Glancing over at him, I take stock of all his qualities. He’s attractive in that big shouldered, brooding ex-cop kind of way. Always has this passionate look about him, and a level of determination that NC usually burns out of the average person. He’s kind. He’s got a really good heart. 

And against all odds, he seems to like me. 

If my life had worked out any other way, maybe we could be something. I could be the kind of girl he brought to Joss’s place, playing AR games with the kids and stirring fucking jambalaya while pressing a kiss to his cheek. I bet we’d be happy together, even. It would be easy. A love born of mutual respect, no games, no fuss. We’d drink whiskey on top of the water tower and laugh, his hand would stray over my knee, my lips might graze his jaw.

But the longer I look at River, the more the fantasy starts to break down. There are so many reasons why it won’t ever happen. Why it  _ can’t  _ happen.

And I know it’s stupid, but I can’t stop comparing how I feel around him to how I feel around Takemura. Two drastically different men, for sure. But when River calls, I don’t get that sudden wave of vertigo like I do when Goro's holo pop up. My heart doesn’t skip three beats, and River’s voice doesn’t burrow deep inside of me like his does. I don’t think of River at night. I don’t replay our conversations like my own personal stack of BDs. I don’t  _ ache _ for him.

River is perfect. If I was a better person, I might deserve him. But I’m hung up on a man fifteen years my senior who probably wouldn’t give a shit about me if I hadn’t watched Saburo Arasaka get zeroed. 

It’s not like I expect to ever have anything work out between me and him. That’s not the reason why I’m going to let River down. It’s just another facet of my life, one that doesn’t line up with River’s, or the one he envisions us having together.

River angles his body toward me and his gaze  traces my face. It’s too affectionate. Too soft. I panic and draw a hard line. Harder than I mean too. 

“Hey, I dunno if you’re expecting this to … you know, go anywhere but…” I trail off, my fingernails digging into my palms. Fuck, I wanted to do this delicately. 

“Don’t stand a chance, so I?” He sighs. The disappointment is clear on his face.

I shake my head, “The opposite, actually. Think you’re too good for me.”

He laughs, “You're kidding.”

“I’m not built for this shit,” I say, waving a hand, “The family stuff, the cookouts, all of it. It’s not me.”

“It could be.”

I glare at him, “I’m a merc with an expiration date."

I don’t mean to come off like such an ass, but I’m frustrated. Not with him. Just with everything else. Myself, Night City, all the steps I had to take to get here. It’s all so fucked. 

“You’re more than that, V,” River says and puts a hand on my shoulder. 

Out of habit, I shrug it off. He looks momentarily hurt before rearranging his face. The look he gives me next is kind and understanding. Just makes me want to jump off this fucking tower even more. 

“You deserve someone whose brain isn’t a ticking time bomb. Someone who doesn’t zero people for a living … someone you can bring home to Joss.”

The fight drains out of me and I’m left feeling limp and defeated. I thought turning River down would make me feel in control. But all it’s done is remind me how fucking lonely I am.

River turns to face the skyline again. 

“Look, I’m not going to argue with you if that’s how you really feel,” he sighs, “But you should know you’re worth a hell of a lot more than you think.” 

I turn my gaze to the lights of Night City. The back of my throat burns. I'm furious and ashamed at the same time. But Jesus, I didn't ask for his opinion. Doesn't mean shit anyway.  River knows fuck all about me. If he knew the real me, we wouldn’t even be here right now.

“I’m sorry,” I say once I trust myself enough to speak.

He shakes his head, “Nothing to be sorry about.”

“Maybe we could just stay friends?”

“Definitely.”

He stands and starts rummaging around behind me. I keep my eyes trained on the city. I have to remember where I’m from, what I  _ am. _

“Gotta be something to drink around here,” River’s muttering.

Thank fuck, he’s already breaking the tension. I eagerly play along.

“Something strong would hit the spot.”

“Think I’ve got just the thing.”

When he returns, he’s got a jug of dark liquid. He hands it to me and I don’t even bother looking at the label. I take a deep, long pull from the bottle and feel the drink create heat all the way down my chest and into my belly. I wipe my mouth and make a face.

“Jesus, what is that?”

River chuckles and then raises his own bottle, “Old ass whiskey. Cheers?”

_ To this _ , I remember with a pang of grief. Jackie’s big mouth giving me hell for it, his bright eyes laughing. I haven’t gotten much more creative since he died. But I owe it to River to at least give it a shot.

“To friendship,” I say in a wooden voice.

“To friendship,” River agrees.

We both drink, and I do my best not to look at him.


	4. Sinking

I knock four times. 

A pause, then footsteps behind the door. It swings open and Takemura reaches out, grabbing my shoulder.

“OK, come inside. Quick.”

His warm hand dwarfs my bare shoulder. He pulls me over the threshold so fast, I stumble into him. I brush up against the sturdiness of his body, the crisp scent of his cologne enveloping me. I have to crane my neck a bit to look up at him, we’re so close. He shuts the door behind me and keeps his voice low.

“I feared they had caught you.”

I wasn’t expecting the concern. The dark look In his eyes and furrowed brow surprises me so much that I can’t find my voice. His eyes quickly scan me up and down. 

“Are you hurt?”

He asked me the same thing after I’d dealt with Oda. It’s not any easier for me to hear the second time around. The softness of his voice when he asks threatens to unfurl something dangerous inside me. 

“No,” I say, breathless, “I’m fine.”

“Good.”

He backs away from me, which allows me to take the first deep breath I’ve taken in hours. I eye the rifle slung loosely in his grip, a one-armed, half hearted gesture. If it had been Arasaka at the door instead of me, that gun wouldn’t have done shit, and Takemura knows it.

“What the fuck happened?” I ask. There’s no real heat to my words. I’m too overwhelmed to be anything other than weary.

“I used a sedative,” he frowns, “She tried to enable her tracker.”

The guilt seeps off of him in waves. I saw the same look when he fired at Hanako. The crumpling of his face as he rushed forward to catch her limp body was unmistakably remorseful.

“I had no choice," he says.

I drag my hands down my face. We are in such deep shit. This was not part of the fucking plan. I don’t even know where to begin with—

“I offered her some tea…”

Takemura looks back at Hanako, his expression almost chagrined. If we weren’t so royally fucked, I might have laughed. Goro’s a smart guy, but he can be a real idiot too. It’s actually kind of endearing.

“You kidnap Hanako Arasaka and offer her a cup of fuckin’ tea?”

“Yes,” he nods, and I think if the light were better I might have spotted him blushing, “She … respectfully declined.”

I give him a look that says surprise, surprise, which he artfully ignores. He gestures toward the middle of the room, where Hanako’s silhouette sits at a small table.

“Tell her the truth about Yorinobu, no embellishments. And state your terms clearly.”

He begins to walk, and I follow him. Our footsteps sound like gunshots inside the sparse apartment. 

“Perhaps to you she will listen,” he murmurs.

His faith in me continues to blow my mind.

I found the table and come face to face with the woman of the hour. I’m struck by how beautiful she is. Clearly, she got the best genes and left Yorinobu out to fucking dry. She’s delicate in appearance, but her presence is hard as glass. Despite being kidnapped, not a hair is out of place. Her makeup is perfect, her dress unruffled, her posture impeccable. 

I’m actually a little intimidated. My thigh high boots and gold booty shorts probably don’t paint me as a professional, or someone worth listening to. I should have changed before I got here. Just didn’t have time. 

Takemura speaks in his own language. “Hanako-sama, this is the woman I spoke of. Please, listen to what she has to say.”

Hanako doesn’t deign to look at me. I fold myself into the chair across from her, trying to emulate some kind of her elegance. Sitting across from her, with Takemura close behind, I remember how different I am from them. They’re coiled elegance, polished, and refined. 

A sudden thought stings me. If Takemura was to fall in love with anyone, it would probably be with someone more like Hanako than like me. 

“I was there that night, in Konpeki Plaza. I saw what happened,” I begin.

I have to remember that this isn’t just biz for her. She lost her father that night. Being gentle isn’t my speciality, but I’m going to have to give it an honest shot here.

“I know it sounds unbelievable, but Yorinobu is the one who killed your father. It wasn’t poison, that’s a lie. Your brother … strangled him.”

Takemura’s face pinches with pain. But Hanako’s stays impassive. Silence descends upon the three of us. I look to Takemura for guidance. He nods almost imperceptibly. I’m doing okay so far.

Still, without looking at me, Hanako speaks, “You just be mad to think I will listen to such nonsense.” 

I run my hands over my face. I can feel another attack coming on, and I really can’t afford it right now. I press my palms into my eyes and try to steady myself. 

Goro and I take turns trying to convince her. I tell her about the Relic, about Johnny. Goro backs me up. He speaks to her so softly, though, when he does it. His patience holds out longer than mine does. He cares about her a lot. It’s obvious.

But even our combined attack doesn’t seem to be enough. Another bout of silence covers us like a blanket. I’ve run out of words. I have no more energy to beg for my life from people who couldn’t give two shits about it. 

A sound from the hallway makes me flinch. Goro stiffens, raises his gun.

“Did you hear that?” 

I nod. My blood is frozen. Fear prickles in my arms.

“Go and check,” Goro instructs.

I stand. My boots click against the wooden floors as I head for the door. Behind me, Goro checks the windows. 

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” I say, mostly to myself. This place is abandoned. There shouldn't be anything making noise, not even old pipes.

Dread pools in my gut. I stick my head out of the door, but find nothing. It’s cold and empty. But I don’t feel relieved. 

“Agh — not now!” Goro cries out.

I whip around, met with a flash of bullets spraying through the walls. I put an arm up to shield my eyes as the lights above me shatter and bullets strike all around me.

“Arasaka! They have found us!”

Goro dives to the floor, covering Hanako. I catch his eyes in the chaos. Hard, resolute. He’s not panicked, merely resolved. I stumble behind cover. My ears are ringing from the noise, and dust from the debris makes everything blurry.

“What do we do?!” I scream over the gunfire.

Before he can answer, a flashbang explodes inside the apartment. My vision floods with white and I fall back, cracking my head against the counter behind me. I’m blinded for a few moments and when I finally get my sight back, I’m staring down the barrel of an Arasaka rifle.

Behind the guard, two more file in through the busted open wall, shooting into the bedroom. 

The soldier in front of me screams, “On the ground, cunt! Don’t move!” 

From far away, I hear Goro yell my name. “V!”

Then, gravity shifts. My feet slide out from under me as the floor drops away. The soldier in front of me careens sideways as the hole opens up and swallows him. I fall back, expecting to hit the floor, but instead I keep falling.

It’s like sinking into quicksand. All I can do is look up at the red light against the dust above me as I fall further below into darkness.


	5. Don't Leave

Johnny’s yelling at me.

I barely hear him over the sound of gunfire and the thunderous crumbling of concrete. The apartment building’s shriveling up like a dead flower —floors caving in, walls peeling, the foundation swallowing itself.

I should delta the fuck out of here. I know that’s what Johnny’s yelling about. Any second this place could come crashing down on my head. 

But I’m not leaving Goro. 

I take the stairs two at a time. I don’t have time for guns. My cyberware blades come free of my forearms, baring all their sharpness like teeth. And as soon as I hit the landing, Arasaka’s on me. 

Like flies on dead meat. Was it Jackie who used to say that? I can’t remember. 

A few of their shots hit home, but I barely feel them. Most ricochet off the Mantis Blades as I run forward and dive at the first armored son of a bitch. I hit the weak spot in his jugular and blood sprays like a fountain. I tear through the rest of them, taking as much punishment as I’m giving out. As soon as the hallway’s clear I have to pop a hypo to keep myself on my feet. 

“The fuckyou doin’? You lost it?! He’s beyond any sort of help!” Johnny barks.

I ignore him. Something that gets easier and easier to do the more time we spend occupying the same brain. I push past his flickering image and scope out the next hall. Gunfire crackles from a room up ahead.

As much as I hate to admit it, Johnny’s right. I shouldn’t be going after Takemura. This whole time, Johnny’s maintained that Takemura doesn’t really give a shit about me. I’m a useful tool, one that he probably wouldn’t mind flatlining once I’ve outlived my purpose. The only reason we’re even working together is because he needs me. It’s biz.

But even that solid, logical fact can’t stop me from reading into every single thing the man says. Everytime he tells me to be careful plays back in my head. I feel his touch on my shoulder, dragging me inside the apartment, our chests almost touching. His scent washing over me.

Are you hurt?

I feared they had captured you. 

I follow the sounds of the gunfire until I find a room with the floor caved in. The one that just dropped my ass five minutes before. On the opposite edge of the crater, two Arasaka elites fire into the adjoining room. Goro yells, though I can’t tell if it’s out of pain or fury. 

I lunge without a second thought. I wrench my arm along the throat of one of the soldiers and zero him in a matter of seconds. Goro’s bullets take care of the other one. The mantis blades find their home back along my forearms and I turn to find a familiar pair of pale, cyberware eyes staring at me. Relief floods my body. 

“You should not have returned! You will die here with me!” he yells.

Wish I had the balls to tell him that doesn't sound so bad. Sure beats dying alone while someone else’s psyche sucks out my brain with a straw.

Look, I know it’s fucking morbid, but there’s almost something poetic about the idea of dying together. I’m NC gutter trash and Takemura was once a well respected member of the Arasaka empire. But once we’re both flatlined, it doesn’t really matter. We could lay on the floor together, staring at one another until we bled out, and we’d be equals. 

Of course, I say none of this. Instead, I yell, “Thank me later!” and pull out my pistol. 

Goro gives me a quick nod and reloads his own. There’s something feral about the way he looks right now. Eyes flashing, blood at his temple, chest heaving with breath. Even in the middle of a fucking shootout I’m practically fucking wet for him. 

Fuckin’ losing my edge.

The two of us make our way through the hole in the floor, down any opening we can find, dodging Arasaka all the way. There’s a lot I want to say to him, but now’s really not the right time. We just need to keep moving. I’ll ask my questions later, if there is a later.

“Through here!” Takemura yells and I follow the white glare of his button-down, as it’s the only thing I can see through the red smoke.

We drop down from a stairwell and end up in the lobby. The doors to outside are just ahead. I beeline it for the solid glass and give them a shove.

Then, my brain short circuits.

The timing on these seizures are almost fucking comedic. They always decide to shit the bed at the worst possible moment. I gasp as the pain suckerpunches me hard in the skull. My legs go out from underneath me. I crash to the sidewalk, my hands splayed out.

Fuck. 

I thrash there for a moment. Time slows down whenever this happens, like the pain wants to be drawn out. Seconds feel like hours. I’m afraid it won’t ever end. The ringing in my ears is so sharp it feels like my head is going to explode. Bile creeps up the back of my throat.

“V!”

Takemura crouches down beside me. Sweat glistens at his brow and errant locks of his dark hair cling to his skin. His face swims in and out of focus.

“Be careful,” he pants, hoisting me up from the sidewalk.

I feel that overwhelming sensation of safety again. His hands gripping my arms securely, my shoulder pressed against the solidity of his chest, his warm breath at my ear.

I want him to pick me up and carry me somewhere safe. 

But as soon as I’m back on my feet he yells, “We must go different ways! Alone we have a better chance!” 

He’s right. And I nod wildly, watching in a trance as he takes off down the road. My heart splinters. Fucking stupid — of course we need to go separate ways, we’ve got no chance of outrunning Arasaka if we don’t divide their manpower.

But as I watch Takemura disappear into Japantown, all I can think is … please don’t leave me.


	6. Crossroads

Once I drag my ass out of the window of the hotel in Pacifica, I call up my car and collapse into it. Johnny doesn’t bother me. He’s said all he needs to say, I guess. 

I drop the dog tags in the passenger seat, which leaves my hands free to grip the steering wheel. I mean to start driving, but I’m shaking too hard all of a sudden. I slam my palms into the wheelover and over again, hard enough to bruise.

A scream comes tearing out my throat. In the confines of the car’s interior, it hurts my ears, but I don’t stop. I keep right on screaming until my throat’s raw and my vision’s swimming.

I’m really fucking dying. No denying it now. The fact that it got bad enough that Johnny had to take over, and that I couldn’t walk five steps without crashing to my knees has to be a sign that it’s getting close to an end. My life, that is.

Not sure why I’m so sad about it. My life hasn’t exactly been all that preem. I should be relieved that I’m headed out. When Jackie died, my dreams of making a name for myself died with him. I’ve got nothing left to prove. 

So why is it so hard to give up?

I’m too angry to cry. But after I scream myself hoarse, I rest my forehead against the steering wheel and take deep, shuddering breaths.

“Pull it the fuck together,” I hiss.

I’m not done yet. I still have to meet with Hanako. If I do it soon, I might actually survive this. I’m not feeling very optimistic, but anything is better than sitting here waiting for another attack like the last one. I gotta take advantage of my brain while it’s still functioning.

Once I stop shaking, I drive back toward Heywood. On the way, I get the call I’ve been waiting for. I have to pull over onto the side of the ride because I don't trust myself to keep my eyes on the road and away from Takemura’s face.

He looks tired. I wonder if I look the same. I can feel my entire body wilting with relief, however, seeing him alive.

We make the obligatory small talk that you do when you’ve both been through a near death experience. But when I update him about Hanako, and can’t help myself from asking, “You gonna be there too?”

I hate how fucking hopeful my voice sounds.

He shakes his head, “Not at this time, Arasaka is still searching for me - we cannot risk it.”

I knew it was a long shot. Doesn’t stop me from being disappointed.

“But… it is only a matter of time, V.”

I’m not sure if he’s saying it to comfort me, but the effect is the same regardless. A hole opens up in my chest, gaping and mournful. His voice isn’t enough. His image on the holo isn’t enough. 

“Goro, where are you?” I ask weakly.

“I am done with squats, V. That is the most I can say - you will have to be content.”

_ No _ , I think,  _ not good enough.  _ How am I supposed to be fucking content with that? How am I supposed to be content with anything?

“Please, Goro,” I whisper, surprising myself.

I didn’t mean to get this desperate. This  _ pathetic.  _ But it’s bubbling out of my mouth before I can stop it, a hot, black deluge of emotion and need.

My voice cracks, “I just … really fucking need someone to talk to right now.”

A beat passes. I expect him to reprimand me. To tell me that it's too risky, that I'm being selfish. I brace myself for his refusal. 

Then, a data transfer pops up. 

His voice rumbles, “I am sending you an address. Make sure you are not followed.”

A breathless laugh escapes me. It’s somehow both incredulous and relieved at the same time. It scratches in my throat like sandpaper as I start up the car. 

“Thank you,” I whisper, “Be there soon.”


	7. Sake

“Corpo Plaza,” Johnny scoffs from the passenger seat as I turn off the car, “Looks like somebody’s back in ‘Saka’s good graces.”

The luxury apartment building looms overhead. The drive from Pacifica took long enough that now it’s nighttime, and the windows of the building are a kaleidoscope of reflected neon color. Still, the structure itself reeks of pretentious corpo influence. It seems to stand in spite, glaring with dark steel at anyone who passes. 

Goro really wasn’t kidding about being done with squats. Johnny’s scoffing picks at my brain as I get out of the car and slam the door closed. 

“Eat my ass, Johnny,” I mutter.

He appears on the roof of the car with his knees drawn up, “Gladly, if you’d get it out of your ass first.”

It seems like our brief foray into friendship at the hotel in Pacifica has worn off. I thought that had been some kind of breakthrough, but apparently me visiting Goro means we’re back to tearing at each other’s throats. 

“I don’t wanna fight with you,” I sigh, “And you’re not gonna change my mind anyway.”

I make my way across the parking lot. Every step feels like it’s weighed down with cement. The distance between me and the door stretches on and on, yawning like a void. 

“You could’a called anyone else,” Johnny says, “But for some goddamn reason you’re crawlin’ to this Arasaka dog for help. The leash around his throat is so tight even  _ he _ doesn’t know it.”

I guess he’s right, in a way, I  _ could _ have called someone else. Panam, River, maybe even Judy. But I always feel like I’m pretending to be someone better than I actually am when I’m around them. They know one version of V, and it’s usually the pretty one. No telling if they’d take in the ugly, broken and defeated one that’s centerstage now.

Fortunately, or unfortunately depending on how you look at it, Takemura has only ever seen this version of me. I never have my shit together around him. So I feel pretty comfortable dragging myself to his doorstep like the mangy stray I am, despite how much Johnny disapproves.

I hit the intercom with the side of my fist. 

“It’s me.”

Takemura doesn’t answer, but the light flashes green and the main door to the lobby peels open. I head inside, my boots scuffing at the polished marble floor. I wonder how he got set up here. Hanako must have had a hand in it, but does her brother know? Questions buzz like locusts inside my head as I get into the elevator and hit the button for his floor. I rest my feverish forehead against the cool steel of the elevator’s wall and try to quiet all of them.

When I hit the right floor, I wipe under my eyes to remove any smudged makeup and gather the large plaid shirt that’s acting like my jacket around myself. I’m sure none of it helps. When I knock on Takemura’s door, I have the distinct impression that I look like a drugged out doll down on her luck. Blonde hair coming free of all the little ponytails, face gaunt, makeup smudged, knees knocking together — I’m a fucking wreck. 

The door swings open and Takemura appears before me, dressed head to toe in a crisp white suit, looking every bit like he just stepped off a screamsheet. 

“V, come inside,” he says, ushering me in by the small of my back. As he guides me through the threshold, he looks past me and checks down the hallway before shutting the door. 

I take in the apartment. It’s pretty sparse, which makes sense. If Hanako set him up here it would have been a quick operation. There’s furniture and decor, but it all has the kind of unimaginative look of something that was pre-designed for the occupant. 

Still, I notice a bottle on the sleek coffee table and a small tumblr nearby. Slight human touches. Proof that he lives here now.

“Please, sit,” Goro says, gesturing to the large black leather sofa, “Would you like anything to drink?”

“Fuck yes,” I say and then remember my manners, “Please.”

He rummages in the tiny adjacent kitchen for another glass while I fold myself up on the couch, with my spine against one arm. 

“This is one hell of an upgrade, Goro,” I say, still marveling at the room and the view of Corpo Plaza beneath us. 

“I was fortunate to have Hanako-sama’s help. She made the arrangements.”

He returns and pours something clear into my glass from the bottle on the coffee table. He hands me the glass and then sits a cushion away from me, his body angled so he’s almost facing me, but not quite. 

He doesn’t look any worse for wear. In fact, he looks better than he has in weeks. It’s not just the new suit, though that’s definitely doing good things for him. There’s something in his face that’s changed. He’s more sure, more confident. I would never call him relaxed, I honestly don’t think he has the capacity for it. But this is the closest I’ve ever seen him get.

“You look like a million eddies,” I say. 

I take a sip from the glass. Sake. An expensive one, too, if I can trust my own palate. After a lifetime of scop burgers, who fucking knows?

Takemura eyes me carefully, “And you look like shit.”

“Yeah? Feel like it, too.”

I take a longer sip, letting the heat of the alcohol work its way through me. Most booze ends up burning a hole straight through to my stomach, but sake always goes down neat. I feel warm all over whenever I drink it. 

“You said you wanted to talk,” he says after a long moment. 

Ah, shit. That’s right, I actually have to talk about something now. My plan for all this ended as soon as I walked in the door. All I wanted was to be in his presence, to hear his voice, to feel that overwhelming sensation of safety that he exudes. I don’t actually want to talk about my fucking feelings. But he’s not going to let me get off that easy.

“I had another one of those attacks,” I say. My deteriorating health is an easier subject to broach than my deteriorating mental state. “Bad, this time. Happened outside the Sunset Motel, I completely blacked out.”

Takemura frowns, “For how long?”

“Dunno. The Relic took over.”

His eyebrows lift in surprise, “I did not know that was possible.”

“Me either. Guess it’s a good thing it did, though, or I’d still be facedown in the parking lot.”

“Your condition is progressing,” Goro says in a grim voice. There’s a hint of something in his eyes. Worry? 

“I’m running out of time,” I confirm, looking down into my empty glass, “And I’m fucking scared.”

It’s the first time I’ve said it out loud. It’s a relief, actually, to admit it to someone. But with the admission comes the reality of what’s happening. My palms begin to sweat. 

“Arasaka will figure out how to save you, I am sure of it,” Goro says. His voice is earnest. Genuine. I know Johnny hates his fucking guts regardless, but I really do think Goro is a good guy. I think he’s one of the few people in this city that actually fucking cares what happens to me.

He continues, “When you speak with Hanako-sama, she will put things in motion. It is only a matter of time before we find a solution.”

“You sound very sure about that,” I say with a half-hearted smile. 

“I am. I promise you, we will do everything we can for you.” He reaches over and touches my knee, “You are not alone in this, V.”

The point of contact lights me up inside. Even after he moves his hand away, the heat spreads up my thigh, searing a line of longing against my skin.

I wet my lips, “Can I ask you a question?”

He nods. As I choose my words, he refills both of our glasses. 

“Call me crazy, but I actually get the sense that you … care about me. That’s not something that happens to me a lot,” I say carefully, “I dunno if you’re just putting on an act or what, but it’s pretty fucking convincing.”

A long silence passes. His pale eyes are unreadable, his expression impassive. There is a sheen to his hair that makes me think he’s recently showered. He looks so composed, so unflappable. 

He sips his drink, “You did not ask a question.”

“Am I wrong?” I whisper, “That’s my question.”

He avoids my eyes. “You are not wrong.”

“Why _?  _ Why care about someone like me? _ ” _

He turns his head, his eyes capturing mine. A muscle in his jaw jumps as he works out a thought. He places his glass down on the table and flexes his hands atop his knees. 

“Is it so hard to believe? You have proven yourself to be a capable ally, and someone I consider a friend. You saved my life when you had no reason to, and when it would have been safer for you to save yourself instead,” he says.

We meet eyes. Time slows down and the quiet of the apartment fills me up. 

“I believe you are an honorable woman, V. You have proven this many times. How could I not care for you?”

My body moves without my permission. My glass gets set down and I crawl forward, across the one cushion that divides our bodies. I reach for his face, the bristles of his beard tickling my palm. 

Then, I kiss him. 

Our lips meet softly. We taste each other with tentative, curious kisses. His hand cups my jaw and then goes back through my hair. I swing myself into his lap, tightening my knees around his hips as he leans back into the couch. 

“We should not do this,” he growls against my throat, “It is not wise.”

The kisses transform into something deeper,  _ hungrier _ . My tongue explores his mouth before I suck at his bottom lip, feeling the soft flesh between my teeth. He groans and grabs my waist, pulling me closer. I roll my hips against his lap. His breath stutters against my chin. 

I can’t stop kissing him. I don’t ever want to come up for air. My hands splay out against the muscled plane of his chest before moving back to dig my nails into his shoulders. The crisp fabric of his suit presses back against me, but I feel the heat of his skin simmering beneath. 

Goro’s hands drop to my hips. But all of a sudden, he applies pressure to them and gently pushes me away. It’s so soft a movement, I almost don’t notice it. But I feel the shift in the moment distinctly, even before he rumbles out my name.

“Wait, V.”

I unlatch myself from him, burning with humiliation. I move back across the couch like I’ve been slapped and drag my thumb along my bottom lip.

“I get it,” I say, not even bothering to mask the hurt in my voice. 

It was a stupid idea. I shouldn’t have even tried. Why the fuck did I think the two of us could ever be anything? I threw myself at the first person who gave a shit about me, it doesn’t get more pathetic than that. 

I wrap my arms around myself and look to the door. I should go. I should just walk out and hope the two of us can pretend this never happened.

“No, you misunderstand.”

Goro shifts beside me. He straightens down the front of his suit and then reaches for my face. I flinch, but I don’t stop him. I’m too desperate for more of that, more of  _ him _ , that even my pride won’t let me pull away.

“You came to me distraught, wanting someone to speak with,” he says in a low voice, “I do not wish to take advantage of that.”

“But—” 

“I do not want you to do something tonight that you will later regret.”

His thumb skims my cheekbone. I’m not really sure how to feel. Part of me feels like a teenager who just got her heartbroken. The other is just confused. He turned me away, but not for the reasons I expected. Not because I’m Night City trash, not because he’s too good for me, not because he didn’t  _ like _ it. 

“Tell me you don’t feel this,” I say, searching his eyes, “Whatever’s happening between us.”

“I could, but it would be a lie.”

“Then why—” 

His hand leaves my face and straightens his collar, “There is much work to be done, V. We cannot afford to let our guard down now. Once you speak with Hanako-sama, things will be different. We will have direction.”

Goro’s eyes look heavy with desire. “For now, we must not be careless.”

I nod, pretending to understand. I’m sure he’s right, but all I can think about is the feeling of his beard against my chin, his powerful thighs tensing beneath me, the scent of him everywhere, the taste of sake on his tongue. 

“Okay,” I say, bewildered and trying to reassess, “Uh, I guess I’ll go, then.”

“Nonsense. You are exhausted,” Goro stands and collects our glasses, “Stay here and rest.”

The sting of his rejection lessens a little at that. I sink back a bit into the couch. 

“Are you sure?” I ask.

He moves to the kitchen and deposits the glasses in the sink. With his back to me, he says, “Rest, and tomorrow, speak with Hanako-sama. You need not suffer any longer than you already have.”

I can’t deny that I’m dead tired. And I’m not gonna pretend that I don’t want to stay here. This is the only place in the city I feel whole, I think. Even my own apartment doesn’t have the kind of peace that Takemura brings.

I lay back on the couch, letting the cushions cradle me. I close my eyes for a moment, only meaning to rest them for a short while. But when I wake up next, the apartment is silent, and the lights are off. A soft blanket has been draped over me, and my boots have been removed, standing at attention beside the couch. 

  
  
  
  



	8. Tea

My dreams are fitful. Disjointed. I see scattered images of my own memories. I’m sure they’re mine, not Johnny’s. I feel Takemura’s hand cradling the base of my skull as Delamain swerved back and forth, tires squealing like a wounded animal.

_ If I hit a vein by mistake, she will die. _

I see him over me in Vik’s clinic, his hand resting on my bicep. 

_ How is she? _

Then, his face in the sunlight as we stand on the rooftop. His cyberware glowing molten gold. His hair ruffled by the breeze.

He turns his head to look at me, and I snap awake.

The floral aroma of expensive tea wafts over me. I sit up on Takemura’s couch, the blanket he put over me last night pooling in my lap. I rub at my eyes.

I'm surprised I actually slept. Can’t remember the last time I got a full night's rest.

“Good, you are awake.”

Takemura’s voice purrs through the quiet of the apartment, low and jagged. He appears beside me and offers me a steaming mug. The Arasaka logo’s stamped on the side. I almost laugh.

“I made tea,” he says.

“Thanks,” I say and bring the cup to my lips.

He sits across from me with his own tea and watches me over the rim of the cup. I take a slow sip. Not too hot, it goes down smooth as liquid sunshine. Dunno if I’ve ever tasted tea this good.

“Did you sleep well?” He asks.

“Surprisingly well,” I admit. I draw my knees up and balance my mug on one.

He nods, but says nothing more. I have a brief, intense flash of the night before. His hands around my waist, my hips digging into his. I quickly look down into my tea and try to banish those thoughts. Hard to do when he’s sitting mere inches away, looking unsettlingly perfect in the morning sun.

“I’m going to talk to a Hanako soon,” I say, trying to fill dead air, “As soon as she can meet with me.”

“Good,” Goro nods, “Do not delay, V.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

We sit in the quiet, sipping our tea. It’s actually kind of nice. It’s not an uncomfortable silence at all. It’s just nice to be here, with him, slowing down for a minute and not having anything go tits up for once. 

He stares at me with something bordering on affection. I watch him as his gaze traces my face, my throat, my shoulders and then back up again with a steely fondness. Still, we don’t speak. There’s so much being said without uttering a word. I wonder if he’s thinking the same thing I am — wondering about what we’re going to do after we have a plan. How we fit in this world together. Is there some future where the two of us could sit just like this, drinking tea like old souls and letting the city wake up around us?

The peace can only last so long, of course. Soon our cups are empty and urgency rears its ugly head again. Goro takes our dishes to the sink and I slowly put my boots on, taking my time lacing them up.

My head starts to swim. That familiar ringing echoes and the vision of my boots below me seems to flicker and distort. My body is telling me to get a fucking move on. 

The strings of my laces tremble as my hands begin to shake, but I power through. Once I get them tied, I reward myself with a deep, shuddering breath.

“V,” Goro’s voice is dark with concern.

I look up in a daze. The image of him before me looks static and too bright. 

“Hmm?” I ask.

He frowns, “You’re bleeding.” 

Ah, shit. I feel it as soon as he says it, a line of warm blood running down the Cupid’s bow of my lips and spilling into my mouth. I wrench my sleeve across my face to wipe it clean and run my tongue over my teeth. The taste of iron reminds me that I need to get my ass moving.

“I’m fine, it’s passed,” I say, clambering to my feet.

I wobble there for a moment. Goro’s hands steady me instantly. I didn’t even realize he was that close. The scent of him washes over me like a cleansing rain, and the warmth of his palms revives what's left of my strength. 

“Guess that’s my cue to leave,” I attempt a half-hearted joke.

Goro does not smile. He seems to be reluctant to unhand me, but does after a moment of wary assessment. He steps back dutifully.

“Are you sure you are well enough to drive?”

“Yeah, I’m good.”

I head for the door, my boots thudding. Goro follows me, his glossy, near reflective loafers clicking in my wake. When I reach for the door, we both stop. I turn back just slightly. He looks as grumpy and stern as ever, but there’s a new fear in his eyes that’s unfamiliar to me. It’s the kind of look you give someone as they walk out a door when you’re not sure if they’re going to come back. I only recognize it because I saw Jackie’s mom give it to him a hundred times over.

“Call you later?” I ask weakly.

“Yes,” he nods, “Let me know what you and Hanako-sama discuss.”

I want to kiss him, or hold him, or  _ something  _ before leaving. But I know I shouldn’t. He’s right, we can’t afford to be careless, especially now. Still, leaving with nothing feels so anticlimactic. So  _ useless. _

I pull open the door. As I move to go, Goro grabs my shoulder. When I turn back, he squeezes it, hard and stares deep into my eyes.

“Be _safe_ , V,” he says.


	9. Named

Johnny lets me take over again once I wake up on the familiar upholstery of Vik’s operating chair. But I still feel like I’m being piloted around. I’m only vaguely aware of what’s going on around me, and I bob through my surroundings like a piece of trash in the ocean.

A few things stand out. Vik pointing to a table, where the pills sit on a silver tray. His eyes hurt, almost angry. My legs swing over the chair and somehow I stand up, though I feel like I can’t take credit for it. My body moves of its own accord. It floats through the clinic, up in the elevator with Misty, and finally drifts out onto the edge of the roof where Night City gleams like the cosmos down below. Misty’s talking about Jackie. How he decided something up here once, and when she leaves, Johnny takes her place.

He, and everyone else, wants me to make an impossible decision. And given that I almost flatlined in the elevator at Embers, I’m not really in a position to argue. It’s do or die, literally. 

But there’s no way I make everyone happy. The math just doesn’t work out. Going with Panam will put the Aldecaldos at risk. I’m not letting people who didn’t sign up for this shit die for me. 

Letting Johnny rope Rogue into throwing away her life is bad too, and there’s no telling how many people are going to get hurt if they blow Arasaka tower again. I may be a piece of shit, but I’m not a terrorist. 

The Arasaka angle is a bad one, too. Johnny’s sure they’re going to screw me, and honestly? I don’t disagree. But at least in that scenario, the only lives I’m risking are mine and Johnny’s. I think that makes it better.

I know my judgement is clouded by Goro. Siding with Arasaka feels like reaching out for his hand and having him haul me up out of the hole I’ve dug myself into. But he’s only a small part of Arasaka. Even if he wants to help me, he has no say in whether or not Hanako keeps her word. 

“I need to think,” I say to Johnny. 

He looks surprised. They’re the first words I’ve spoken since I woke up. My voice is hoarse and cracked. The movement of my tongue in my mouth brings the taste of iron back. Gradually, I pull myself back into my own body, the ache of my limbs returning to me. I can’t afford to disassociate right now. There’s too much to do and a ticking clock. 

“I’m not fuckin’ stupid, V. I know where you’re headed,” Johnny mutters.

I’m too exhausted to even feel guilty, “I just wanna talk to him.”

“Why? So he can tell you everything you want to hear? He’s stringin’ you along and you’re fucking falling for it,” he turns away in disgust, “Whatever, you’ve already made up your mind.”

“Yup.”

I pop the pill and swallow hard. Within moments, Johnny vanishes from the edge of the rooftop, and I’m alone. I’d forgotten how quiet solitude is. Even the city below sounds muted. There’s a vacuum sucking up all the noise around me and eventually all I can hear is the pounding of my heart in my ears.

I drag myself back down to street level and get to my car. Then, I head to Corpo Plaza. When I get there, I hit the intercom. Goro’s voice crackles through.

“Who is it?”

I lick at my dry lips, “It’s me, Goro.”

“V?” His tone changes immediately. Panicked, almost.

The door control buzzes green and I’m welcomed inside. Seconds stretch into centuries as I make my way to the elevator and ride it up. The steps to his door are near overwhelming, but I finally arrive and knock weakly against it. 

It opens in an instant. Goro stands inside, his brow knit in dismay.

“V! Where have you been? I worried when Hanako-sama called and —” 

I step into him without a word. My arms go around him loosely. My cheek presses up against his chest, and underneath the expensive suit I can hear the thump of his heart. He’s warm, and he smells nice, as usual. 

At first, he stiffens in surprise, but he quickly recovers and wraps his arms around me. He secures me in his grip, not uttering a word. The vice of his embrace envelops me in warmth and I sigh.

Jackie used to give great hugs. God, when was the last time someone fucking hugged me? I didn’t realize how much I needed it. 

One of Goro’s hands reaches up to cradle the back of my skull. He holds me for a moment longer, our breaths rising and falling together in the threshold. 

“Sorry,” I finally manage out, “It’s a long story.”

He pulls away from me to take in my appearance, “You look terrible.”

“Wow, Goro, you really know how to flatter a girl.”

He doesn’t laugh. His calloused hand lifts my chin, tilting my head up until our gazes meet. He searches my face, “Something has happened.”

“I passed out at Embers. The Relic took over again, managed to drag my ass to a ripperdoc,” I swallow and avoid his eyes, “He stabilized me but … I don’t have long.”

“ _ Kuso _ ,” Goro swears.

He moves me to shut the door but keeps one arm around my waist. He’s half-holding me up, which is good because I don’t know how much longer I trust myself to stand. Goro seems to sense this and leads us both to the couch. 

My hands shake as I clasp them between my knees and stare at the floor.

“Do you really think Hanako will help me?”

Goro steeples his hands in front of his face, “She gave you her word.”

“A corpo’s word isn’t worth shit,” I mutter and then wince, “No offense.”

“What are you asking me, V?”

He fixes me in his pale gaze and I’m rooted to the spot. Trying to soften all my blows with humor has never worked around him, not sure why I keep trying. 

“I just … need to know if I’m doing the right thing. Hanako has no reason to help me with the Relic after I help deal with Yorinobu. I’m asking you if you think there’s a chance that my body will end up back in the landfill if I agree to take this deal.”

Goro shakes his head, “Even if Hanako-sama was capable of such cruelty, I would not allow that to happen.”

A wave of relief unwinds all the muscles in my body. Johnny would say that this is just Goro telling me what I want to hear, but I don’t think that’s true. I know that this man means the words he’s saying. I feel it in my bones.

And that’s all I needed. That’s all I really wanted to know. 

My voice is a whisper, “Then I agree.”

He nods, “I will call Hanako-sama immediately.”

He moves to stand, but I reach out a hand and grab his wrist. He stills. My fingers curve around the bone in his wrist, a sharp knob. If I squeezed tight enough, I bet I could feel his pulse. 

“Valerie,” I say.

“What?”

“My name is Valerie. I just … want you to know that. In case something happens.”

Goro returns to my side and reaches for my face. He takes my jaw in both hands and stares deeply into my eyes. I feel as though I could wilt away into his palms. 

Staring at him, I realize there’s so much I don’t know about him. I don’t know any of the stupid shit you’re supposed to know about someone you love. What his favorite color is, if he listens to music, how hot he likes his showers -- it’s just not fair. I want more time with him and I’m rapidly running out. Even if Hanako doesn’t decide to betray me, there’s no guarantee I make it out of this alive. 

I just want more of him. Is that too much to ask? I’m so fucking exhausted by the futility of it all. 

But his thumb strokes at my cheek as he drops his voice low and says, “Valerie … we are going to save your life. This, I promise you.”

I’ve made my choice. Guess now all that’s left to do is face the consequences. 


End file.
